#we can have a little shading as treat

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

#neon-grey-writing #potion vendor faq #my writing #very very very long post lol #click the read more you know you wanna it's worth it trust me #i wrote the original draft of this at like. 3 am back in early 2023 #that's right it's catherine that-house the squares comic gal back at it again with yet another meta exploration of a storytelling format

[indecisivemuch]

Flatline

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick. 

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep. 

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen. 

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted. 

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him. 

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard. 

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out. 

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.” 

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out. 

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again. 

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way. 

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp. 

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze. 

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions. 

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again. 

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.  

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss. 

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face. 

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours. 

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

-------------------------

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[pricelessemotion]

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween. 

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up. 

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets. 

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer. 

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas. 

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.  

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.  

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity. 

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him. 

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique. 

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths. 

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with. 

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses. 

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located. 

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.” 

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.   

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable. 

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?” 

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?” 

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.” 

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies. 

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest. 

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic. 

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” 

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils. 

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else. 

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—” 

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets. 

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity. 

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.” 

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place. 

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.” 

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door. 

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.” 

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate. 

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm. 

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns. 

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded. 

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted. 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #mimi wrote ✍️ #poltergeists for sidekicks

[acapelladitty]

Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?

A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)

(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)

Call Out Loud For You

Link to AO3 series

Fic Masterlist

Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.

It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.

But still.

He had been a prick about it.

"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.

Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.

"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."

His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.

For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.

Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.

He knew he was in the wrong.

Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.

As was how horny his little games had made you.

Fuck it.

You were getting yours, one way or another.

"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."

Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.

"That I did."

"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."

Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.

"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."

Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.

"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."

Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.

"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"

Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.

What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.

"Oh, it's like that is it."

"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."

A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.

"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.

"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."

His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.

He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.

He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.

"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.

Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-

Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.

His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.

A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.

A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.

Discomfort and pleasure.

Ecstacy and pain.

Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.

Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.

"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."

It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.

Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.

Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.

Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.

His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.

"Not bad, old timer."

Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.

Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.

"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."

"Little?"

Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.

Still, he couldn't resist the bait.

"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"

Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.

It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.

It was your turn after all.

#amazon fallout #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #walton goggins #fallout tv #fallout prime

[nomazee]

“This is unnecessary.”

At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further. 

Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it. 

“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”

“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.

As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you. 

“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically. 

After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties. 

“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him. 

“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too. 

“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.” 

He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago. 

You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in. 

“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp. 

“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.” 

“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.” 

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable. 

“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.” 

“I’m your only customer.” 

“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.” 

“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse. 

“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

(pssst!!! send me a msg or fill out the form in my navi to be added to the taglist!!!)

#blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr x reader #hsr blade x reader #erggg #honkai star rail #hsr #blade hsr #blade x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #blade fluff #blade honkai x reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai x gn reader #blade x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #blade my dear and my new obsession #zzz....i need to expand my horizons but at the end of it all i am stuck writing for dan heng and march and blade #and i am so awful at characterizing bllade #especially because i jsut barely know his lore #zzz................

[serialunaliver]

dumb question but how does one help someone with psychosis? Like I know you said that telling someone "it's not real, it won't hurt you" type of talking wouldn't help. So what would? /gen

treat the delusion "neutrally" - don't outright deny it exists or accept it exists. ask the person things like "how did you conclude that?" or "have you found evidence?" etc. to gain insight on what they're afraid of. in the context of the delusion, make the situation less scary by using logic you'd lose if you believed what the other person was. ask things such as "if we do X or cover Y would we be safer?" ultimately gain as much insight on the person's fears as you can without appearing untrustworthy or hostile by denying everything.I was doing badly yesterday and today I see texts I send my stepdad asking him to check the news for alerts that didn't exist. he 'checked' and confirmed there weren't any and this calmed me down a little. also if you can, lead the person to an environment where they're less likely to cause harm and where they can be calmer. usually my parents have me go in my room with the shades rolled down. we also have some cameras outside and I can see the footage. also it's good for other trusted friends or family members to know in case you aren't available. sometimes a neighbor will check on me if i'm home alone. I don't know how much this helps but it's just what my family learned to do...and it's better for loved ones to help than institutionalization or law enforcement involvement (has happened to me before, extremely traumatizing).

ultimately this is not a fun situation for anyone to be in and every person is different. but one important thing to remember is that it's possible for someone in a psychotic state to view others with suspicion and if you're targeted as part of a delusion the person doesn't *actually* hate you, they are just not experiencing the world around them as "normal".

#seriousposting

[mysticmunson]

buddy; steve harrington x f!reader

s.harrington x f.reader

a little blurb i wrote quickly about reader ditching the mushy nicknames they both love. no warnings, but blog is 18+ and special thanks to the loveliest girl ever, autumn, for entertaining this idea w me @lilacletter word count: 1k

The idea sprang into your brain through a conversation with Robin over frozen yogurt, a mountain of toppings on each of your treats. 

“The way you two fawn each other is weird!” Robin scolded, shoving her plastic spoon in her bowl.

“What! How?” You laughed, wiping a bit of vanilla from the corner of your lips.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Baby? Sweetheart? Love? Don’t even get me started on darling or mama-And yes! I did hear when he called you mama and it made me gag. Use something less gross.”

Her tangent made your cheeks warm, covering your face in embarrassment. The names were cavity levels of sweet, both of you loved them, but it was silly to consider how often you indulged in them.

So sitting on your blue sofa, you watched TV with the volume a bit higher than you wanted it to be, too lazy to stand and turn it down. 

“Hey buddy, can you turn it down please?” You asked from the mountain of blankets as he walked into the room.

“Yeah- Wait what?” He froze, finger on the sound, pushing down for a few notches.

“Thank you.” You replied, ignoring his question and just relieved you could watch Family Ties in peace. 

Your warm smile made his own question fade, figuring he misheard you, and moving on with what he was walking towards. Which he forgot, so he went into the kitchen. 

It would be an hour or so later when you were getting ready to hang out with friends, standing in the bathroom and applying some concealer when it would happen again. The wand glided over your skin, gently patting it with your fingertips as he walked in behind you.

A hand firm on your waist to solidify his balance and keep you in place, he went over your head to reach your medicine cabinet, taking the pot of hair cream you bought him for Christmas.

At your side, he opened it and began applying it to his hair which was now scattered with shades of blonde due to the brutal summers of Indiana. After he finished, he wiped his hands on the towel hanging on the rack, turning around to put his cream back.

“You look so pretty.” He gawked, kissing your temple before looking at your concentrated face in the mirror as you applied mascara. The words made your heart flutter, a small ache in your tummy that could only be brought on by emotions from another person.

Recalling Robin’s words, you smiled, “Thanks, pal.”

A nearly disgusted look went onto his face, not remembering the last time someone called him a pal. But you looked unphased, so he assured himself it was a bit of a tease, settling for squeezing your hip assuringly and walking out of the confined space. 

However, the ride to Eddie’s new apartment was seamless with listening to Wham on the radio, stopping for candy, and walking in his front door with that and the movies in hand. Nancy and Robin were already there, and Jonathan and Argyle were ditching this week's movie night to go on a small road trip to buy certain plants in another state.

The pizza man had delivered dinner as you all sat on pillows on the living room floor, napkins and paper plates in hand. 

“Thanks, dude.” You quipped, taking a bite of the pizza your boyfriend had just set on your plate. 

Eddie’s loud cackle broke Steve’s distressed look into a more agitated one, Nancy smirking to herself as Robin joined the laughter.

“Harrington, how did you get friend-zoned by your own girlfriend!” Eddie barked, grabbing his own stomach. The use of ‘dude’ wouldn’t have caused such a fuss if they weren’t already aware of how overtly affectionate you two were in terms of endearment.

 “I’m not in the friend zone, you asshole! There’s nothing wrong with being friends with a woman- But we’re not friends- Wait! No! She is, but we have se- She is my best friend and girlfriend!”

Cutting off his rambling, you patted his shoulder, “I know what you mean, man.” You placed a kiss on his forehead, but that didn’t erase what you called him. 

Swallowing his pride, he pouted through the rest of movie night, even when you cuddled up next to him sweetly. Physically, your public displays of affection weren’t too egregious, so the normalcy felt pleasant.

As the night came to a close, both of you now in pajamas, the frustration had dissipated. Beneath the sheets, you curled and waited for Steve to turn off the light before joining you. Walking over while scratching his belly, he joined you, shuffling to be closer to your body.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, kissing your nose, followed by your forehead.

Putting a kiss on his collarbone, “Goodnight, buddy.” 

What you didn’t expect was his foghorn whine, dramatic as he sat up, yanking you with him, all to just hover over you with your wrists in his hands. It was embarrassingly easy how quickly he could overpower you like this, but this was probably due to how you didn’t fight back. 

Giggling with girlish lit, you looked up at him, “What?”

The creases between his brows doubled as the scowl on his lips grew, pressing his face to your cheek as you shrieked. 

“Stop calling me buddy!” He complained, resting his weight on top of you, “Or any of those other names either! Why do you hate me!”

“Stevie, I don’t hate you!” You cooed, nudging his head up with your cheek until he looked at you, “Robin mentioned how gooey our names are and I wanted to try to switch things up.”

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes, “Of course, Buckley had something to do with this.”

Slinking your hands free, you cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips. There was something so enticing about his skin that you were convinced you were reliant on it. 

“I love you, baby.” You murmured, his sigh of relief audible as he deflated to his side, pulling you in close to his chest.

“I love you too,” He began, speaking into your hair, “don’t call me dude like that again though or I will lose my mind. Absolutely bonkers. I will fight Robin at work-”

“Okay, sweetheart.” You cut him off, kissing his chest as it rises and falls.

“Much better.”

thank u for reading! check out my other fics in my masterlist :)

#elora writes #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington moodboard #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve stranger things #scheduled

[fatescaprice]

hiiiii ☀️ can i ask for something about aventurine and the reader who is part of the express family (not trailblazer) ? it can be some love at first sight thing, or maybe where they meet again in penacony and turns out they both had some hidden past with eachother b4🤭 of course, you can choose whatever storyline to go with as well with this reader🤍 thank uuuu

aventurine and a nameless reader

content warnings: vague penacony spoilers

note: hello anon!! i went with the second option since i just looove reunions ... i had a lot of fun writing this but i also had to google how a lottery works ... i'm embarrassed ... i hope you enjoy!

You and AVENTURINE had met ages before he became a bigshot at the IPC, back when he was doing Aeons-know-what to scrape by. Whether you were friends or rivals or had to use every fibre in your body to keep yourself from insulting him on sight, you eventually parted ways and both, quite reasonably, assumed that you would never see each other again — the universe was far too big for that, after all. He saw you off as you boarded the Astral Express, and resigned himself to thinking that your meeting was little more than a lucky draw.

That is, of course, until you run into each other by chance in the lobby of the Reverie. He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, but his eyes end up wandering to you almost against his will as he sorts out your grey friend’s room issue. When did you change your hair? Did your voice always have that kind of cadence? His customer-service smile turns a tad more genuine as he turns to you once it’s over and your friends had dispersed within the lobby. “What a pleasant surprise,” he drawls. “Long time no see, huh?”

Aventurine offers to catch up over drinks, if you’re so inclined. Time is money, but that’s how you normally celebrate making new friends and reuniting with old ones, isn’t it? He’ll treat you to whatever you like while you tell him about your travels.

Even after he gets his own business sorted, he can’t help but notice how you two seem to keep running into each other, as if by little twists of fate. Your room across from his, the sound of you laughing with your pink-haired friend in the lobby, the sight of your back as you wander around the Golden Hour.

If fate keeps bringing you together, Aventurine would be a fool to not capitalise on it, wouldn’t he? He’s quick to slink over to your side and suggest a wager: “You look lonely,” he’ll say, rolling a coin back and forth over his knuckles. “Say, if I win big at the lottery over there, how about we spend the rest of the day together? We can even call it a date if you like.”

It’s a bit of an unfair bet, all things considered — he doesn’t often make bets he can’t win, and while it’s little surprise to him as he claims his prize, he also takes the time to relish in your surprised expression. What, did you really think he would lose? Don’t be silly. Now, tell him what you want to do — he’s already planning an itinerary in his head before work inevitably drags him away that evening.

Even as you two spark up another conversation (What’ve you been up to all this time? Got any travel destinations he might like?) he can’t tell you the whole truth, not yet — but in the meantime he can wrap one arm around your waist just like this, and watch how the dreamscape tints your eyes a shade of the most opulent gold.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #✎... writing.

[miniwheat77]

Nasty. (Mean!König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, König being a big meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dub con, poorly translated German, this is short forgive me, (sorry if I missed any.)

Your nerves are completely shot as you stand in a line. You don’t know why, but he’s so so mean. So mean. He hates you for some reason. Absolutely hates you.

You’re lined up with other Sergeants, waiting nervously as Colonel König passes each of you. “Y/L/N, 50 push ups. im Augenblick.”

You know better than to argue, so you drop to the floor, beginning to do your push ups. Trying not to cry. You wish you could just know why he’s so mean to you. You just didn’t understand, you’d never done anything. You were always kind to him. Always obeyed him. When you finish your push ups, he’s excused everyone else and he’s watching you intently. “Colonel.” You ask, out of breath. He looks at you. “Can I ask why you gave me 50 push ups?” He stands there, eyes dark as he stares upon you.

“50 more.” He breathes. “Now.” A sigh leaves your lips and you obey him, dropping down to your knees again and propping yourself up. “When you’re finished you can go to bed.” He breathes. You choose to ignore him, tired of the way he’s treating you. He walks away down the hallway, but watches to make sure you actually finish your push ups. You do. He smirks to himself. You stand up when you finish and walk down the hallway to your room. You don’t understand.

A couple days later, you wait patiently for an order. You’ve been burned out completely, he’s making you run laps around the base and your eyes are burning from the sweat dripping down your face. The sun is beating down on you and he won’t let you stop for anything. He disappeared a while ago and you haven’t seen him. Your vision starts to blur, and you look confused. Legs slowing to a stop against your will. You start to see other colors, brighter colors filling your vision. That’s all you remember.

König forgot. He went inside for a second and he was going to head back out to relieve you but he got distracted. He’s sitting in his office when he hears yelling, and stands up to peek outside. Curious what the commotion is. He sees another Sergeant bursting through the door carrying you, and his stomach falls. “I need a medic!” He calls. Others flood the hallway and a medic appears. They’re rushing you back to the infirmary. “What’s going on?” She asks. “I don’t know, I found her outside passed out.”

She sighs. “She’s having a heat stroke, we need to cool her temperature down.” König walks away from the infirmary. He knows he’s a little extreme sometimes.

—

“My office, now.” His stern voice sends chills up your spine. You follow after him.

He closes the door behind you and walks around you, staring you down. “I said 50 push ups.” He crosses his arms. “I will do them, but I want to know why first.” You breath. He mumbles something under his breath in German, you don’t hear him. “Now.” He breathes. “No.” You breathe. “I deserve to know why.” He let’s out a deep chuckle and you know you’re digging yourself a hole, but you’re tired of this. “You listen to me, girl.” He growls. “I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to tell you why. I say jump, you fucking jump.” He growls. “dummes Mädchen.” He growls. You know what he’s just said. “Fuck you.” You growl. His eyes snap to you, wide. He’s pissed. In one second, he’s got you slammed up against a wall. Hand around your throat. He’s watching you turn a shade of red. “Fine. You want to fucking disobey me?” He breathes. You can feel his spit particles landing on your face. He’s seething. “Ich zeige dir, was ich mit bösen Mädchen mache.” He growls, he lets go of your throat and spins you around. Forcing you down onto his desk.

Your eyes widen as he tears your cargo pants down your legs, forcing them down. What is this? Why is he reacting like this? You feel the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance and in one hard thrust, he forces his cock into you and a gasp gets stuck in your throat as he starts to thrust himself into you. He’s stretching you and it hurts. Tears prick your eyes at the intrusion, a cry leaving your lips.

Luckily your body gets used to him. Your hands clutch his desk and he groans out. Hands holding your hips in a death grip, sure to leave bruises in their wake. His belt rattles violently with each of his brutal thrusts, the massive man makes you look small. Watching the way your pussy stretches around his massive cock has his eyes rolling back. You’re quiet for a while, but his thrusts halt immediately when a moan leaves your lips. He spins you around, pupils blown out. He can’t believe his ears. “Do you like this?” He asks. You’re leaning up against his desk, body exposed to his judgmental eyes. You stay quiet which earns a sharp slap to your cheek. You nod your head shyly. He grasps your thighs, forcing you back onto his desk again, returning his cock to your weepy hole. He thrusts in again and you cry out. “Ah! König please- slower please-“ you whimper. “You can take it, we both know you can.” He growls. He squeezes your breasts too hard and you whimper out, he’s so mean. “You like when I’m mean to you, dumme Hure” he growls. “You like when I bully your slutty pussy. I know how wet you get for me when I’m mean to you. You like it. So take it. Nimm mich, du verdammte Schlampe”

A cry leaves your lips as he bullies your cunt. Thrusting into you hard, not giving you anytime to adjust to him or his massive size. His desk is sliding across the floor with a violent screech, it doesn’t phase him. Not even a little bit. His groans that he’s letting out, they’re something different. You’ve never heard him being pleasured before, only angry at you. Maybe this is how you could make him happier. Maybe this is how you fix him being mean to you. You’ve got a death grip on his desk, his cock is pushing into your cervix and it’s too much. Bordering uncomfortable but you don’t dare tell him that. You keep your legs open for him, letting him use you. His moans are getting a little more desperate. Whimpers almost. “Oh fuck, so tight.” He gasps. He pushes one of your legs up a little higher, cock sliding even further into you. How on earth you were handling him was beyond you. You can’t help as your eyes start to water, tears beginning to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his massive cock. He’s overwhelming you. You can’t help it. “König?” You ask. “What?” He growls, “can I cum?” You whimper. You can see the way the small wrinkles around his eyes form, he’s smiling. “Now that’s a good girl, asking for permission.” He breathes. “Just a little longer.” He breathes.

You’re right on the edge. He’s pushing you over it quickly and you don’t know if you can hold on. “Ich sagte, warte”

You nod your head eagerly and he’s smiling down at you again. His cock twitches slightly and he’s about to cum. “Cum now, Liebling” he mumbles. You fall apart completely beneath him. Thighs shaking, body shivering. Chills arising on your skin. Your eyes roll back and you’re sucked into another dimension for a minute. The sound of him panting is bringing you back down to earth. He slides out of you and you let out a gasp. Realizing what’s just happened, he’s cum in you. Your eyes widen slightly. Worry filling you up.

“Get dressed and go clean up.” He orders. You nod your head, obeying him immediately.

The feeling that settles into your chest, sadness. Because no matter how much you offered your body up for him. Your holes, he was always just going to be mean.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig imagine #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig smut

[catcze]

No but ehat if like wriothesley had an s/o or maybe someone hes romantically interested in who he sees mostly in the fortress and then they go outside together one day and he's like "i never realized how beatiful you are in the sun" and hes all cute and blushin and shit OUGGH OUGH OUGH I'VE BEEN SHOT THROUGH THE HEART WRAAAAAGHHSHDH

OUGHHASDAS YOU AND ME BOTH U AND ME BOTH

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

When you set out on your day off, you weren't expecting to run into your boss— certainly not in a cafe, of all places.

"Your grace?" you ask hesitantly, approaching the table that Wriothesley and Sigewinne occupy. There's a litany of small desserts before them, as well as a teapot and two tea cups filled with rather aromatic tea. You run a hand over your top, trying to smooth any wrinkles that there may be. You certainly hadn't been expecting to run into him here! Oh, if you knew you would have dressed a little bit better. As it is, you were just here to hunt down an afternoon snack, and you certainly looked it.

But Wriothesley lights up at the sight of you, a small smile curling the edge of his lips. Sigewinne grins too, waving in welcome.

"Hello there!" She says pleasantly. "We weren't expecting to see you here!"

You chuckle. "Same here."

"But it seems like you've come at quite the opportune moment," Wriothesley says, beckoning you into one of the empty chairs of the table. He straightens a bit, slouching less in his seat, and leans forward on his elbows. That smile is still on his lips, and his gaze hasn't left you for a second. "I'm afraid we may have gone a bit overboard with our order. You'd be doing us a favor by having some." Sigewinne nods in agreement. You feel the blood rush to your face though, turning it warm.

"Oh, I couldn't impose like that, your grace—"

"Sure you can," Wriothesley's smile broadens then, and you get a hint of his canines in his smile. A slight hint of a dimple on his cheek. "I already said that you'd be doing us a favor, didn't I? Besides, you can drop the 'your grace' while we're here. Treat this like... a serendipitous meeting between friendly parties, rather than between coworkers."

And oh, if you thought that your face was warm before, it had practically doubled in temperature now. Not wanting him to hurry you any further, you plop in the seat. Sigewinne giggles, pouring you a cup of tea and handing it to you which you take with a word of thanks.

"Here," says Wriothesley. He gestures for you to hand him your plate, and as you do so, your fingers brush. It sends tingles up your arm, and you damn near drop the plate out of reflex. Wriothesley, judging by how he clears his throat, his ears turning several shades redder, is not unaffected either.

He fills the plate with lots of confectionaries, desserts, finger foods, and sandwiches, and all sorts of other things. Sigewinne points out some things for him to give you on occasion, and he happily takes her suggestion and gives you some. Well. You've certainly got your afternoon snack and thensome.

As Wriothesley hands the plate back to you, he pauses just as you've taken hold of the other side.

"You know... I think this is the first time I've seen you in broad daylight," he muses. His cheeks redden a bit, and he chuckles at himself under his breath. "The sunlight makes you look even more stunning than usual."

And you make an embarrassed noise, because archons, you might just be in need of medical assistance by the end of this, because there is no way the flipping of your heart is normal. You take the plate, looking down and away so he doesn't see your flustered expression, but he has anyway, if his small laugh is any indication.

"If you ever want to come back here, feel free to say so. My treat." Wriothesley offers, gazing at you with his chin resting on his palm. He looks at you like he never wants to look away. "I'd be happy to see you in this sunshine again, if you'd let me."

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriothesley

[jpitha]

The Oxygen Breathers: With one hand tied behind my back!

The human sat on the bench in the common area for at least one of their hours before the children worked up the courage to approach.

"You're a human right?" One of the children - an Innari - said as they approached the human. They were taller than the human, and seemed to have barely any bones. They moved and undulated like an octopus that was used to being out of the water.

The human's helmet flashed an cartoon icon of its face and smiled - without their teeth - broadly. "That's right! My name is Harold, but everyone calls me Harry. What's your name?"

"I'm Opian, this is Downward Draft, and standing in the back is Vizxxian." They gestured with their tentacle-like appendage. It had manipulators on the end which could be seen a little like fingers. Good for fine detail work.

Harry put up his gauntleted hand and spread his fingers. A wave. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. What can I help with?"

"Downward Draft says humans are the strongest of the Coalition peoples. Is that true?"

Harry sat up slightly. His icon continued to speak while he did. "Well, I don't rightly know if that's true, Downward Draft. I haven't met everyone. Of the ones I did meet, I have a hunch I might be stronger, but you also have to remember, we come from a heavier world than most of the other Coalition species. Earth's gravitational pull is half again what it is here on this station. There were gasps and noises of surprises from the kids. "That's so heavy!" Downward Draft rustled their feathers they caught the light and sparkled. "This station is already heavy for us; our homeworld's gravity is even less. I bet I couldn't' even walk on your planet!"

Harry's icon nodded. "You might be right, Downward Draft. But, gravity aside, it's nice here. I like the colors you use to decorate, and I like your plants. Everything back home is just different shades of green."

Vizxxian was working themselves up for something. Harry peered over Opian's head. "How about you? Do you have a question?"

Viz's eye slits squeezed shut and they blurted out "My parent says you're all a bunch of 'rock throwers' and that we should have never let you into the Coalition. They say that outside of your suits and ships, you're not so tough."

Downward Draft nudged Viz. "Don't be mean Viz! Harry is a guest here. You know how to treat guests."

Harry chuckled. "It's all right Downward Draft. We learn things from our parents. Part of growing up is trying to figure out what is true and what isn't. Now, I'm not mad, but you know that 'rock throwers' is a slur, and not a nice thing to say, right?"

Viz's ears wiggled in assent. "Yes, but that's the word father used. I know it's a bad word though."

Harry nodded. "Context is important though. I could say 'I picked up this rock and threw it' and that's not a slur, but if I said 'those rock throwers always go back on their deals' that is a slur. It's all right though, I'm not angry." Harry's helmet cleared. The kids looked across as his face became visible for the first time. Opian's eyes dilated in surprise. "So your dad thinks that we're not so tough outside of our suits? How about we place a little wager? I'll get out of my suit, and if any of you can touch my arm, I'll buy you a snack."

Opian shrinked back. Downward Draft raised their feathered arms in a gesture of dismissial. "You can't breath the atmostphere here! You'll die!"

Harry put up a hand. "It'll be all right. I'll wear a breathing mask, and the pressure and atmosphere difference won't hurt me for the time I'll be out of the suit."

"Oh we couldn't-"

"I'll do it!" Opian and Downward Draft turned in shock to Viz. They had stood to their full height, just a little taller than Harry and bent their legs just a little. "I can touch your arm."

Harry grinned. "Good. Let's see." Harry stood up, and touched the pad on his suit's arm. There was orange light that illuminated his face and he frowned and pressed more buttons on his suit. After a moment, it turned green, and lines appeared all over the suit. Joints. With a hiss of pressure and a whine of servos, his suit unfolded like a flower, and Harry stepped out.

He was much shorter than the kids. Just two meters tall if that. On the top of his head was a dark fur that was closely cropped, and he had fur all over the lower part of his face that was the same color. Under the outer, armored suit he wore a tight body suit that connected to the outer suit with thin wires. Harry reached down and unplugged them and they slid up into the suit he was wearing and disappeared. Opian was impressed. Their suits seemed to be far more advanced than ones of Innari make.

"There." Harry's voice was much lower than his translator made it sound. Maybe it was the difference in breathing gas? It was also a little muffled by his mask. "Okay Viz. Whenever you're ready."

Opian and Draft stood back and watched. Viz stood stock still and seemed like they were trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, Viz howled and ran towards Harry. Their long legs consumed the distance between them relentlessly. At the last half meter, Viz spun and in one fluid motion bend down and lashed out with one of their legs. Opian gasped. He was attacking Harry! That's a lethal kick if it connects.

Before Opian could react any further, Harry... wasn't were he was before. He was standing a meter to the side, and Viz was flying backwards into the bench. Viz jumped up, and roared again. This was a roar of frustration as well as a battle cry, and charged Harry. Once again, Harry stood there watching, and as Viz turned to kick him, he wasn't were Viz expected, and they went skittering across the smooth floor.

Harry stood with his hands on his hips. His eyes flicked to Opian and Draft. "Remember, strength isn't everything. Know your opponent. Know how they attack, watch for signs, paying attention and then you can move out of the way and dodge." Harry was grinning and put his hand out and curled his fingers towards himself. "Come on, Opian, Downward Draft, you try too!"

Downward Draft bent low and leapt towards Harry, using their legs to absorb as much potential energy as possible, releasing it as they sprung towards him with arms outstretched. Quicker than Opian could follow, Harry ducked underneath the Avar, and Draft sailed harmlessly overhead.

Harry, looked at Opian and raised one of the small lines of hair above his eyes. "What about you, Opian? Give it a try?"

"No, thank you Harry. I concede. There's no way I could touch you."

Harry's nodded. "That's all right. Mayb-"

Harry looked over and Downward Draft was standing mere centimeters away, with his arm out, and the barest edge of one of his iridescent feathers brushed against Harry's arm.

"Got you." Draft whispered.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed. The kids all took a step back in fear. "No, no, it's all right. that's a fair touch. You win, Downward Draft. I'll buy you snacks. Just let me get back into my suit. My skin is starting to itch."

It only took a moment for Harry's suit to climb onto him and fit around him as he stood there. "I have to say Downward Draft, you can move quietly."

They ruffled their feathers in pride. "Thank you Harry. On my world, moving without noise is a prized skill."

Harry darkened his helmet and his icon re-appeared. "Harry?"

He turned, "Yes, Viz?"

"You don't have to darken your helmet. We don't think you're scary anymore."

Harry's helmet cleared. He smiled without showing his teeth. "I'm glad to hear that Vizxxian. I'm glad to hear that."

#humans are deathworlders #writing #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #jpitha #sci fi writing #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #The Oxygen Breathers

[luciddownloading]

Astrology Observations: Leo Edition 🦁

👑Leo Suns, Leo Moons and Leo Risings are all like different types of celebrities.

Leo Sun people have classic It Girl/It Boy energy. They have the powerful ability to light up their surroundings and be the cream of the crop in whatever their domain is, exhibiting that "special something" others can't duplicate. Most of them know they have it, whether they openly admit it or not.

Leo Moons are sort of like child/teen stars with the staying power to still shine as adults. A lot of them stand out as iconic in their youth, through their talents or life experiences, and retain that quality as they mature. They may even have a "stage mom" of sorts or just a mom who fiercely supported their abilities.

Leo Risings are the accidental celebrities. Many of them are actually quite shy or modest but just radiate this magnetic, commanding quality that draws recognition their way. Attention and praise always find them, without them having to seek it.

👑 Leo people have THE most infectious laughs, especially the Suns (Sagittarius people would come second, imo). We can make people laugh just by laughing. Also, very distinct and memorable laughs.

👑 Those with Leo placements, especially in their big 3 (Sun, Moon, Rising), either adore cats or can't stand them. The Leo temperament is very similar to a cat's. Lions are cats, after all! (Leos often even have feline features, like "cat eyes") So, some Leo people will deeply bond with cats and identify with them while others will be repelled because they're too similar lol.

👑 Leo Risings have far more drama in their personal lives than most people know. Often times, some long-held secret about their family or serious relationship surfaces that really shocks people.

👑 Venus in Leo people are often absolutely in love with fashion/clothes/aesthetics. It's like their true first love, not that boy or girl from their teens (though I am sure they're great!) Total fashionistas with the confidence to make garbage bags look like couture.

Some Leo Venus people go the other way and could not care less about fashion. But, their careless style choices are still cute, mostly because they're so at ease in them.

👑 No shade but those with Mercury in Leo sometimes talk just to talk; to be entertaining or fill up the silence. They don't care as much about factual info or depth. They just don't want to be boring! But, their gift is they can convince anyone they know what they're talking about, even when they have no clue.

👑 A Leo Sun's birthday has deep significance to them. They are the type to either always throw a party/go on vacation for their birthday or just treat the day as a time for renewal or rebirth. Also, if this is your Sun sign, please keep track of your yearly Solar Return chart. It affects you a little more than it does others.

👑 Let the Leo Moon in your life have their little dramatic moments (barring anything toxic, of course). They need that emotional release and get over them pretty quickly.

👑 Mars in Leo people might be extra turned on by make-up sex or arguments that lead to sex. Which may sound problematic but it can work if their partner is also into it, is equally passionate and neither takes it too far. They find a certain amount of drama sexy.

👑 Though the stereotypes might make you expect otherwise, Leos usually love each other and get along exceptionally well. The bond can be incredibly loyal, lots of fun and very special, particularly if they are romantic partners or best friends. Instead of competing for attention, they know how to support the other's light and allow each other to be great.

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #leo #leo placements #sun in leo #leo rising #mercury in leo #venus in leo #mars in leo #moon in leo

[banamine-bananime]

Growing up I lived in an area with a lot of cattle farming and I was very scared of the cows. Do you have any cool facts that will make me either more or less afraid of cows?

oh hmm let me think on that!

facts related to how to interact with cows so all parties feel and stay safe:

they have a very prey herd animal mentality. they want to move with their herdmates. they want to watch any potential threats like people and move away from them. they don't like loud or unfamiliar noises (they're sensitive souls. sometimes if i visit a dairy wearing waterproof coveralls where the cows are only used to people wearing cotton coveralls, just the whisper of waterproof pants rubbing against each other can spook them) or abrupt movements or going into areas they can't see well (and they have difficulty with depth perception due to their wide-set eyes for 300 degree vision, and with high-contrast, so going from sun into shade or vice versa can look like stepping into a white or black void for them and they don't like it)

based on this, we know the keys to low-stress cattle handling are consistency in how you interact with them, calmness (small movements, quiet words to let them know you're there), moving cows in groups big enough to have friends but small enough you can control the whole group without them milling around or the ones in front stopping and causing a traffic jam, and slowly moving them by just barely getting in their "bubble" of "whoa, you're a little too close for comfort, i'm going to move in the other direction" without ever getting into their "YIKES RUN AWAY FROM THIS THING" bubble

the last point involves understanding pressure and flight zones and point of balance:

from Mississippi State University Extension:

from grandin.com (highly recommend as a source of information about animal behaviour and welfare!!! temple grandin my idol since i was like nine i love her so. and i tear up when i think about how much she's done for millions of animals ;_; she's a genius and no lie revolutionized low-stress handling):

pet cows that get doted on enough to bond with people may not see people as a threat so the normal ways we use pressure zones to iinteract with cows don't necessarily do anything for them. you would lead them more like a horse, using a halter. or lure them with treats.

beef cows typically have little contact with people, often just processing (vaccines, preg checks, quick exam for any health problems) a couple times a year, so they can be very wild. doesn't mean they're aggressive, the overwhelming majority are non-aggressive but they have very large flight zones, so if you don't recognize that and approach too quickly, getting deep in their flight zone, that can get you into a dangerous situation where they get aggressive as a last resort. that said, they do usually still choose flight unless their calf is with them. "never get between mom and baby" applies as it does with any species

dairy cows are in between beef cows and pet cows. they interact with people regularly, several times per day, and it's respectful but not doting. kind of a business relationship with their handlers. they're not terrified of people by any means, but they haven't been, like, hand-fed treats to get over their instinctive wariness of potential-predator-like animals, and they know sometimes handling results in unpleasant experiences like medical treatment or pregnancy checks, so they avoid touch and have a flight zone, though it's small (and sometimes they'll calmly let you walk right up to them unrestrained, or approach you and lick you out of curiosity). very very rare to have an aggressive dairy cow (as in, one that attacks you instead of moving away when you're bothering them a little. really bothering them and ignoring body language when they can't move away is much more likely to get you kicked)

bulls are not docile. not every bull will be aggressive, but you should assume that every bull has the capacity to become aggressive with little provocation, and always keep a respectful distance and know your escape route if you have to be in a pen or field with them

cows love exploring with their tongues. any time you're in a dairy barn there's gonna be at least one friendly girl mlem mlem mlemming who won't leave you alone

adding on to the above, there is a slight caveat that you still have to be a LITTLE wary of friendly cows. 99% of the time they're just friendly but sometimes cows in heat will try to mount people. you don't have to be scared of friendly cows but if they're right next to you just keep them in your line of sight so you can move away if they make like they're going to mount. again, not common, never happened to me, but something to be aware of

signs of a happy, relaxed cow: lying down, chewing cud or eating, tail hanging down relaxed, moving slowly with her herd

signs of a slightly wary cow (you have entered the "pressure zone"): standing still/stopping what she's doing, turning towards you, ears turning towards you (watching the ears is a very good way of knowing what she's paying attention to), tail swishing or raised a bit away from body

signs of a distressed cow: vocalizing (they also moo for other reasons though), tail swishing, fidgeting/pawing/looking like she wants to move but doesn't know where to, freezing up and intermittently making erratic movements (back away a little)

signs of an aggressive cow: head down with attention on you, pawing ground, turning to show you their broad side. (turn sideways and calmly but swiftly walk away diagonally)

#cattle #veterinary

[mitsuyeaah]

STRAWBERRIES & CREAM

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“if i’m dreaming don’t wake, don’t wake me up from you in that sundress, here in that sunset.”

cw: modern au, sundress season with sanzu, fluff, nsfw (mdni), smut, pwp, oral (f receiving), food play, unprotected sex, creampie, clit slapping (brief), multiple orgasms (f), pet names (baby), swearing, sanzu being down bad for reader for wearing a sundress.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: my entry for The #SummertimeMadnessCollab event by @saccharine-darlin !! thank you for this awesome event! happy happy birthday to my one and only, haru <3

The hot summer wind danced around your figure, the smooth fabric of your pink sundress flowing with the breeze. You were surrounded with hues of green and red, the blazing sun in all its glory amongst the vast azure sky—not a single spec of cloud in sight; the buzzing of insects and trees waving at one another filled your ears as you wandered down the never-ending strawberry fields. Rows and rows of green and red stretched across acres of land which brought joy to your heart, like a child discovering a sweet treat for the first time.

“Maybe I should’ve stayed at home.” Your boyfriend hissed, swiping a slender hand across his neck, attempting to wipe away the thin layer of sweat that has formed there. Rosy strands of his shoulder-length mullet uncomfortably stuck to the sides of his neck, his fringe slightly sticking together just above his aquamarine eyes and thick lashes, a slight scowl forming upon his pretty face. You whipped your head over to where he stood, turning your torso as you looked over your shoulder, “Oh, lighten up, would you?” You chuckled from underneath the brim of your straw hat.

Before Haruchiyo could say anything, another tropical breeze danced around the two of you, this time, lifting the hem of your dress a little too high for his liking. He leaned over and jutted an arm out, catching the fabric in his hand and smoothed it down your legs before any prying eyes could wander above your knees— parts of you that only he could see and touch.

You gave him a sheepish smile as you held the fabric against your thighs, he could only shake his head and give a small chuckle, turquoise eyes becoming a shade lighter underneath the sun as he looked up at you. His cheeks were almost the same colour as his hair, a droplet sweat rolling down the side of his face. Feeling sorry for your boyfriend, you grabbed the white strawberry-filled bucket that hung from his forearm and placed your straw hat on the crown of his head.

“We’ll fill this up a little more, then we can go.” You wiped the sweat that rolled down the side of his face with your thumb and ventured further down the field, following the narrow path underneath your shoes.

His heart skipped a beat at your little gesture, the familiar warmth spreading across his sweaty chest as he surveyed the back of your figure. God, you always managed to make him fluster at the smallest things, the two of you have been in a relationship for quite a while now and not once did you not make his heart flutter with something as innocent as that, not that he was complaining though.

You were cute.

He looked at the way your pink sundress swayed around your knees, the fabric peppered with little red strawberries to match today’s activity—strawberry picking. How did you manage to look so heavenly under this scorching heat? Meanwhile, Haruchiyo looked like he just ran a marathon from the way his white polo shirt clung to every part of his torso, pants becoming uncomfortably tight around his legs the more time he spent under the sun.

Haruchiyo hated sweating but for you, he’d endure it.

He knew how fond of strawberries you were and so was he but he’d rather be in the comfort of his own home, eating them without having to break a sweat and practically bathing under the tropical weather. Plus, he loved your strawberries and cream cheesecake—luckily enough, his birthday was tomorrow and you had suggested to bake his favourite cheesecake flavour. Although, he didn’t expect the part where the two of you had to pick fresh strawberries for his cake.

You opted for strawberry picking instead of store-bought ones since it brought joy to you; the feeling of wandering around the endless fields of green and the faint scent of strawberries filling your nose. Even though Haruchiyo urged you to just buy from the store, the experience was still different and plus, it was time to get some much needed vitamin D, per your words—to which he responded by saying you could get vitamin D from another source, earning a slight smack from you.

Nonetheless, it was perfect. The cold dessert was just what he needed after being out in this scorching heat. He couldn’t wait to dig into the sweet treat and feel the coolness of the cake against his tongue, the bursting flavours and strawberries and cream melting in his mouth.

Feeling much better, the two of you sat on a wooden bench under a parasol with the strawberry-filled bucket resting on the table. After picking strawberries, Haruchiyo suggested grabbing strawberry ice cream that the farm had; he’s a sucker for these since they used fresh strawberries from their farm.

You softly chuckled at the man sitting across you eagerly licking at the sweet treat, the slight scowl that he held underneath the blazing sun no longer evident on his face, instead it showed pure content. The breeze was also cooler under the shade, rosy strands no longer uncomfortably sticking to his neck and his shirt didn’t cling to every part of his torso anymore. You met his aquamarine gaze as he looked up at you from under the thick layers of lashes, “Why are you laughing?” Genuine confusion was now plastered on his face, brows knitting together underneath his blush-coloured bangs.

“You’re cute.” Embarrassment filled his whole body, hands ever so slightly tightening around the waffle cone. Haruchiyo was never the one to know how to act when receiving compliments. Yes, he complimented you a lot, endless praises spilled from his lips very easily but when he’s on the receiving end, he doesn't know what to do. In your opinion, that’s what made you fall for him harder—the way his cheeks turn crimson red and his shy turquoise eyes avoid your gaze.

Before he could even process your compliment, you made a small noise out of surprise as you felt the melted pink liquid make contact with your index finger. Haruchiyo watched as you placed the ice cream on your other hand, lips encasing around the digit that was stained with the melted substance. His keen eyes followed the way your tongue darted out to lick a long stripe from the cone and up to the ice cream itself, following the trail of the melted ice cream.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his cerulean eyes following your tongue’s every movement. An action so innocent yet it flipped a switch inside him, rather quickly, even. Hell, who was he even lying to, he has been on edge ever since he saw you in that goddamned dress. The way the thin fabric effortlessly cascaded down to your knees, and the low neckline of it, deliciously exposing your collarbones. Haruchiyo wasn’t worried about other people looking at you because he knew you were his and he was yours. Goddamnit he was the only one hitting that, and no one else.

God, the way the dress hugged your body in all the right ways made him lose his mind. He has never wanted to rip the clothing off of you as quickly as you put it on but alas, you guys had plans for the day. In all honesty, he was ready to go home and take you right then and there, maybe even keep the dress on while he pounds into you; the neckline yanked down to expose your breasts. But, his deepest desire can wait. He’ll have to behave, for now.

“What’s on your mind, Haru?” His heart skipped a beat at the nickname; you always called him ‘Haru’ but his mind suddenly went elsewhere. How cute would you look as you call him by his nickname while his cock is sheathed inside you, and to top it off, your strawberry dress hiked above your hips as he gives it all to you. It may be his birthday today but you deserve all the pleasure he’s about to give you once the two of you get home.

Haruchiyo shook his head and mumbled a ‘nothing’; before he knew it, the two of you were back home, a bag of strawberries in hand. He gently placed the bag atop the kitchen island before pulling you in for a deep kiss. His lips tasted like strawberries, just like you expected. A hand cupped your cheek which allowed him to deepen the kiss, his lips were full of want as it  moved desperately against your own. Haruchiyo didn’t shy away from shoving his tongue past your lips as you parted them to let out a muffled whimper.

You stood there, trapped between his body and the kitchen island, and all you could do was grip the collar of his shirt. “Mhm.. Haru, I still have to make the cheesecake.” You let out a sigh of content as Haruchiyo moved from your lips, trailing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, and down the side of your neck. A light sheen of sweat coated your skin but he didn’t care, he could handle a little sweat. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, earning a small moan from you. “Baby, you can do that later.. I want you all to myself.” Haruchiyo furrowed his brows as you breathlessly laughed at his reply.

“It’ll be quick. Plus, what’s a birthday without a cake?” “Hmm, the cake I need is right here, though.” He wrapped his arms around you to grope at your ass, causing you to yelp. Your eyes widened, meeting his aquamarine ones which were full of mischief. “Haruchiyo.” You lifted a brow at him, the smugness in his face slowly disappearing before defeatedly raising both arms in the air and walking towards the living room.

“I love you!” You called out to him from the kitchen. “Whatever.” Haruchiyo playfully grumbled from the living room. You shook your head and chuckled but before you could do anything else, he piped up again. “I love you.” A smile crept up to your lips, unable to bite it back. He was adorable to say the least, and you couldn’t have asked for more when he gave you his heart.

Throughout the entire time you prepared the cheesecake, Haruchiyo stood by the island counter. Pools of aquamarine never leaving your figure as you paced back and forth around the space. You’ve made this dessert countless times for him but he never fails to watch every single time, and despite watching it all, he has never jotted down a single process in mind. If he was being honest, he was running impatient. His cock grew harder with every passing minute, straining his pants; Haruchiyo couldn’t help his mind wandering to various things he’d do to you once you were done.

It also didn’t help how you decided to keep that goddamned sundress on while making the cheesecake. You were teasing him. He knew how much that dress drove him crazy, how it made him absolutely lose his mind. Haruchiyo watched the way you wiped your finger on the side of the bowl to gather the cream you’ve made and bring it up to your lips, sucking on your index finger. Fuck, the way your lips moulded around your digit, and the way you let go of it with a ‘pop’ pushed him to the edge.

Haruchiyo pushed himself off the kitchen island to make his way to you. You were finishing the last few touches for the dessert, decorating the top with freshly cut strawberries just like how you and Haru liked. Almost dropping a strawberry at the presence behind you, you let out a small yelp as he caged you in between the counter and his body. Haruchiyo placed his hands on your hips, pulling them back a bit just enough for you to feel his clothed hard on.

“‘M getting impatient, baby. Can’t let the birthday boy wait for too long, right?” He dipped his head to kiss the junction of your neck, earning a small sigh from you. Resting your head against his shoulder, his lips wandered further as you gave him more access—leaving trails of maroon and dark purple. “W-wait, Haru. Let me just put this in the fridge–ah!” A yelp slipped past your lips as he ground his clothed cock harder against your ass.

Everything became a blur after the dessert was stowed away in the fridge. Haruchiyo had you bent at the hips, your torso against the kitchen counter as he hiked your sundress up to reveal your ass. “Hmm.. so perfect for me.” He gave it a little slap before massaging the spot, earning a moan from you before nudging your legs wide open. As he kneeled, he yanked your soaked panties down so that your wet cunt was in perfect view right in front of his face. 

A loud whine slipped past your lips as Haruchiyo sucked on your wet entrance—the sounds that came from him were rather lewd given as to how hard he was sucking. The loud erotic sounds bounced off the kitchen walls, and went straight to your ears; it wasn’t like it was your first time being eaten out by Haru, it was just that the sounds never failed to make you flustered, especially with the way he hummed against your cunt like it was the most satisfying meal he’d had all day.

“H-Haru! Aah, slow down!” Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, legs threatening to give up as Haruchiyo pushed his face further between your legs. “How can I hold myself back when you taste this good, baby?” He mumbled into your bare skin before shoving his tongue past your folds, earning a loud whimper from you. Your cheeks warmed at the way Haruchiyo’s tongue felt inside you, and the way his lips sucked at your entrance—it hit all the right places within you, and you swore you could almost see stars. “Haru! Fuck..!” Your knees buckled at the never ending stimulation at the apex of your legs.

Despite being not much of a talker, Haruchiyo was definitely skilled with his tongue in other ways—ways that would bring tears of pleasure to your eyes without a doubt. Your forehead met the cool marble top of the counter as his fingers rubbed fast, tight circles at your clit; your mouth parted but no sound came out. You could feel your head spinning from the amount of bliss you felt at this very moment; oxytocin coursed throughout your body as Haruchiyo didn’t falter with his movements.

Knees buckling, he tightened his grip around your legs to keep your lower half from meeting the tiled floor. Your stomach tingled, all the way to the tips of your digits as your sweet release was right around the corner—soft pants turned into hard, high-pitched breathing mixed with attempts of crying out Haruchiyo’s name as you neared your orgasm. “Haruuuu~ F-fuck, I’m cumming–ngh! Aah!” Your nails painfully dug into the hard material of the countertop as your orgasm hit you hard; the intense pleasure shot up your spine as your whole body trembled, the blissful sensation engulfing you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you finally let go, cumming around his tongue as the building knot in your stomach snapped. Haruchiyo hummed against your pussy, sending more vibrations up your spine. He rode out your orgasm with his fingers still mercilessly stimulating your clit, and his free hand snaking around your front to play with your hardened bud, pulling a loud yelp from you. He sloppily licked up all your cum, hums of satisfaction leaving his lips as he cleaned you up. Your back arched at the feeling of the heightened pleasure, whining as Haruchiyo pushed you to overstimulation. Reaching a shaky hand behind you, you tugged at his rosy strands, trying to push him off your cunt before cumming around his tongue again.

Haruchiyo laughed at your cute attempts to get him off but he obliged but not before placing a chaste kiss on your throbbing entrance and standing up. He pulled your trembling torso against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your waist before whispering close to your ear, “Hmm.. you know what’s making me act this way, huh?” Shivering at the way his breath fanned at your skin, you shook your head no. You didn’t trust your words at the moment since your mind was long gone and fogged with thick clouds of lust. Nothing else.

Your boyfriend let out a saccharine laugh, his hands snaking around you to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of the sundress. “This. Fucking. Dress.” Haruchiyo harshly yanked down the top part of your dress with every word that came out of his mouth to expose your torso. He pressed his nose against the side of your neck, inhaling you intoxicating sent, “Fuck. I have been losing my mind since this morning. Ever since I saw you in this goddamned dress, I just wanted to bury myself in you right away.. You’re such a tease, huh..?” Haruchiyo skillfully removed your bra and tossed it somewhere in the kitchen, making a soft thud as it hit the tiled floor.

He wasn’t lying. As innocent as you looked in that sundress, he couldn’t help but think of every nasty thought that came into mind—it wasn’t his fault that you looked absolutely stunning with that dress on. You knew Haruchiyo had a thing for clothes that matched his rosy strands, especially if it accentuated your body in all the right ways, bringing out the most beautiful parts of you—though, he thinks that every single part of you is beautiful. He has been trying to keep his cool for the entire time in the strawberry fields. It also didn’t help how the flimsy material of your dress danced around the wind, hiking up your legs to reveal your delicious thighs.

Fuck, if Haruchiyo had the opportunity to take you right then and there back when the two of you were in the fields, he would have. He wouldn’t hesitate, not one bit. You were just so goddamned beautiful that he had to show you how much he loved every single bit of you. Breathtaking, to say the least. Sometimes he’d mentally curse himself for thinking of such lewd thoughts when you’re just standing there looking so innocent, so perfect but he knew you better than anyone. You loved to rile him up, and today was one of those days.

“Mhm—ah! R-really..? I knew you’d love it, Haru.” A smirk crept its way up to your lips, your voice shaky from your previous orgasm. Haruchiyo clicked his tongue, he wasn’t surprised that you specifically wore that dress to tease him. He absolutely loved it when you made efforts to rile him up, it was cute because he knew damn well it worked on him every single time. “Tsk. Wearing this just to tease me? How naughty, my baby.” You let out a moan as he massaged your breasts—Haruchiyo loved the way his large hands easily fit to cup at your mounds, like they were specifically made for your chest. 

Arching your back, you replied to him with a whimper, “Ngh! Well, I have to treat the birthday boy somehow, right—ah!” The chuckle that slipped past your lips abruptly turned into a full-blown moan as he pinched at your nipples, gently rolling them in between his digits, causing goosebumps to form under his lewd touches. “Always so good f’me my baby, aren’t you?” Haruchiyo trailed a hand up to your chin to angle your head towards him to kiss you. You moaned against his lips as he bucked his groin against you, rubbing it hard enough to feel the entirety of his length between the valley of your ass.

He chuckled at your attempts to form coherent sentences after pulling away from his lips, something along the lines of wanting his cock inside you. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go to place a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. Haruchiyo skilfully turned you around so that the two of you faced each other; his eyes wandered across your bare chest, mouth watering at the way your breasts spilled from the neckline of the dress that’s been messily pulled down.

Haruchiyo marvelled at the way they looked, so tender, and plump from how he had been massaging them earlier. Fuck, he’s always had a thing for your chest. You furrowed your brows as he reached for something behind you, the glass bowl loudly scraping against the marbled countertop as he brought it closer to the two of you. “Since you don’t need this anymore.. Let’s not have the leftovers go to waste, hm?”

You blinked up at his aquamarine gaze, so full of mischief and slyness as he held the large glass bowl in his hand and the silicone spatula on the other. You watched as he scraped the spatula around the bowl, getting every bit of the cream you made earlier for the cheesecake and dropping it directly on your bare chest. A gasp left your lips as you were met with the cold cream against your warm skin.

It was a new sensation indeed but not weird enough to have you recoil. As a matter of fact, you kind of liked it despite knowing how much of a sticky mess it’d leave you—not like you haven’t felt that before, though. You and Haruchiyo were new to this whole thing, bringing food into sex; you never really thought of it as food and intercourse doesn’t sound as pleasing as it seems but now that you were experiencing it first hand, you didn’t mind at all. As long as it stayed away from your cunt.

Haruchiyo’s eyes were practically gleaming as he finished layering your breasts with cream—he was like an artist admiring his greatest masterpiece. “You’re so beautiful..” He let out a dreamy sigh and gave your lips a small peck before eagerly dipping his head below your chin to lick the sweetness off your chest. Your palms dug into the edge of the countertop, gripping them for your dear life as Haruchiyo licked a long stripe between the valley of your breasts, the sweet substance gathering at the tip of his tongue, all while holding your gaze—aquamarine eyes fixated on yours, like it was made just to look into your eyes and nothing else.

You let out a shaky breath as he stood up right, immediately resting a hand on your nape to pull you into a slow, sensual kiss. You hummed in delight as Haruchiyo didn’t hesitate to shove his cream-coated tongue past your lips, the sweetness of it dancing on your tastebuds. The kiss was messy, the sweet substance coating his and your lips which left wet, sticky trails around your mouths. He groaned into your mouth before swiping his tongue at your bottom lip, and kissing the corner of your mouth to clean up the mess he has made.

At this point, your head was spinning. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. The way Haruchiyo took his time to appreciate every single part of you left you breathless—your chest heaved up and down as you stared into his eyes with desperation. He was always like this, worshipping your body to the point where it drove you absolutely crazy; it may seem filthy and lewd to others with how he worshipped you but you loved it. Oh, you loved it a lot. It made your heart sing for his name, and every cell in your body yearned for no one but your lover standing right in front of you.

He placed his hands on your waist—the sundress still clinging to the lower part of your torso as he dipped his head into your chest once again, this time going for a breast. Biting back a moan, you threw your head back at his wet tongue languidly circling your sensitive nipple, rounding your back at the overwhelming sensation of his mouth, torso ever so slightly jerking. You tugged at his rosy roots as Haruchiyo gently bit at the supple flesh of your breast, it didn’t hurt, it was just the right amount of pleasure to send your mind in a frenzy.

Haruchiyo eagerly lapped up every single cream-covered spot on your chest, earning him whines and whimpers from you as you tugged at the rosy tufts of hair. He had his gaze on you the entire time, admiring all your  reactions under his tongue that your body had to offer him. You were cute—the way you let out short, shallow pants as he keenly sucked on your sensitive skin, the way you bit your lip as he swiped his tongue under your breast, and the way you looked at him with such adoration and lust; your brows knitted together in pleasure, lips slightly parted to whisper his name like a prayer.

Your front was left in a sticky, wet mess from Haruchiyo’s tongue; it was so naughty but you loved every bit of it. The way his tongue left messy, wet trails all over your body had shivers running down your spine, and the way his lips circled against the supple skin of your chest to suck it dark red, and purple left you breathless. He kissed every love bite that peppered your front, one so gentle and chaste that earned sighs of contentment from you, a contrast to what he was previously doing before, which pulled shameless moans past your swollen lips.

He turned you around once again, hips pressing against the edge of the marbled counter as he left open-mouthed kisses down your bare back, goosebumps forming under each wet kiss. “Haah~ Haru..” Haruchiyo hiked the dress up to your lower back, exposing your bare ass; he gave it a slap before grabbing the back of your right knee to prop it atop the cool surface of the counter. You braced yourself against the countertop, palms planted on the cool surface and back pressed against his chest. The sound of his belt unbuckling could be heard, the loud clang of the metal part startling you a bit as it met the tiled floor.

Haruchiyo didn’t bother stepping out of his pants as it pooled around his feet, and hastily pulled his underwear down, sighing as his cock was finally freed from its suffocating confines. He hissed as he circled his hand around his throbbing cock, languidly stroking it and using the bead of pre cum from his pink tip to lubricate his cock—it sat heavy in his hand, the way it pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own, so eager and so ready to be buried inside you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, running the blunt tip of his cock along your wet entrance, pulling a desperate moan from you.

A small chuckle left his lips. Haruchiyo figured he’d been teasing you enough, plus, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. The both of you let out a moan in unison as he pushed his cock past your wet folds, his length easily slid inside you due to your previous orgasm—the sound was wet and lewd, the way it squelched as he pushed his hard cock into you, your cum from earlier running down the inside of your legs as Haruchiyo filled you up with his dick. Your hands–which were previously flat against the countertop–balled into fists, nails uncomfortably scraping the cool surface. With your leg propped on top of the counter, it drove his cock deeper inside you.

A string of profanities eagerly left his lips. He let out hard pants like he’s just run a marathon—his face right beside yours as his chin rested on your shoulder. “Mhm..! So perfect f’me.. All mine.” He stilled his hips as the entirety of his length was sheathed in you, Haruchiyo knew you didn’t need time to adjust to him, no—you took him like a fucking champ every single time but he was the one who needed time to adjust. The way your walls hugged him tightly made his head spin, it also didn’t help how you had a habit of clenching around him once he was fully inside you.

He gritted his teeth as your walls clamped down on him for a few seconds, eyes glued shut in pleasure. “F-fuuuck..! Baby—haah! I might just cum if you keep doing that—ngh!” The grip he had on your leg tightened as he let out another moan; Haruchiyo let out a breath he’d been holding as he felt you relax around him, whispering sweet praises against the side of your neck before finally moving his hips. His free hand supported his weight by gripping the edge of the counter, effectively trapping you in between.

The pace he had set was relentless and merciless—just how you liked it. Short, high pitched moans left your parted lips as you closed your eyes shut, focusing on the way the tip of his cock deliciously kissed your cervix again and again. Haruchiyo knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew the certain angle that would absolutely drive you crazy, he knew which buttons to press to help you reach your orgasm quicker.

The sound of skin slapping and squelching bounced around the walls of the kitchen as Haruchiyo’s hips made constant contact with your ass—he watched the way your ass moved with every hard thrust he gave you, jolting your body forward and placing a dull pressure on your hips. He could feel your cum from the orgasm earlier drip down to his heavy balls, making a complete mess as his skin slapped against your own.

Your whole body shook from the way he pounded into you, moan after moan leaving your lips after trying to form at least one coherent sentence. “Shit.. Look at that..!” Haruchiyo let out an erotic gasp as a white ring formed at the base of his cock from how wet you were, this riled him up even more; the hand that gripped the counter made its way to your front, and down to your clit to draw figures of eight with his ring finger. You moaned at the heightened pleasure, arms giving up on you and before you knew it, your front was met with the cool surface of the countertop.

Haruchiyo used your bent figure as leverage to drive his cock deeper into you, standing at the ball of his feet and angling his hips higher. You could feel the back of your eyes heat up as tears threatened to spill, “Ah! Ah! Ngh—aah! Haru..!” Your back arched, deliciously pressing against the counter as he slapped your clit. This caused your knee to buckle, your lower half to almost meet the floor if it wasn’t for your other leg on top of the counter, and Haruchiyo’s arm snaked around you.

He grunted right by your ear with every thrust of his hips, his body molded against yours, his own hips bent as he pressed his chest to your clothed back; he knew how much the sounds he made turned you on—the way his erotic sounds flew right to your cunt to make you even wetter. “A-aah! Shit..! That’s it baby—ngh!” He groaned as he felt you squeeze around him.

It was truly a sight to see. The way your sundress barely covered you; the neckline yanked below your breasts and the skirt of it hiked up to your lower back as Haruchiyo mercilessly dicked you down. It didn’t even serve as an article of clothing anymore, no; now, it just looked like a reminder of what caused your boyfriend to be this crazy about you. It was like some kind of medal that you wore as he fucked you senseless, a piece of fabric covering your middle while the rest left you fully exposed.

The contrast between the pink blush of the sundress, and the strawberries that peppered the fabric and the way Haruchiyo was pounding into you was almost laughable. A piece of clothing, so simple, so innocent yet driving him insane like this—as the saying goes, less is more. Your leg that was atop the counter started to become numb, your foot tingling, and thighs burning as it kept that position but you didn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this good.

“M—aah! C-cumming, Haru..! S-shit!” You moaned, your fingers painfully digging into your palm from the immense pleasure that was starting to course throughout your body. Your boyfriend buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo before letting out a heated gasp as you clenched around him. He gave your nape a few kisses here and there, whispering such dirty things against your sweaty skin to help you reach your orgasm. The way his balls messily slapped against your clit, and the way his cock bullied your insides was enough to get you over the edge.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you let out a shameless moan, face contorted in nothing but pure bliss. You trembled as your second orgasm rocked through your body; tears streaming down your heated cheeks, knuckles white from balling your fists, and back arched from the immense pleasure. Haruchiyo did his best to keep thrusting despite your walls tightening around him to the point where it was almost pushing him out. “Ngh—ah! T-that’s a good girl..!” He sucked at the skin on your upper back, helping you ride out your orgasm to the fullest.

High-pitched whimpers escaped you as he pounded away at your cunt, trying to chase his own sweet bliss. Haruchiyo let out one last grunt before stilling his hips and stuffing his cock deep inside you to blow his load. “Aaah~ Ye–eaah..! Fuckin’ take it all—haah!” You gasped as you felt his hot cum paint your insides white, stuffing you to the brim, some of it dripping out and down your left leg, as well as down his balls. Haruchiyo stayed like that for a while, trapping you between his body and the countertop as he came.

Before your body could relax against the marbled surface, your muscles tightened as your boyfriend started to fuck his cum deeper into you. Since the entirety of his length was already sheathed inside you, he gave you quick, shallow thrusts, allowing his cum to reach you deeper while some of it messily spilled out and dropped onto the tiled floor. “Aaah! Shit..” Your body jerked with oversensitivity as his hips didn’t once falter. “Mhm~ That’s r-right.. Take all of me and make sure it doesn’t spill out, huh?” He panted against your ear, kissing it before slowly pulling out of you, earning a whine from the both of you.

“Mmm. Maybe I should keep wearing sundresses like this..” You breathlessly chuckled, stumbling into his chest as you took your leg off the counter to face him. Haruchiyo wrapped his arms around you—his cheeks were tinted pink, hair stuck to his forehead and neck, and eyes blown with lust, god, he looked handsome while fucked out. “‘M not complaining, baby. It is my birthday after all.. Maybe another one tomorrow. I’ll have my dessert then we’ll eat the cheesecake that you made.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head, squeezing you in a tight hug.

It took you a while to process his sentence. His dessert, meaning you.

© mitsuyeaah

#SummertimeMadnessCollab #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu smut #sanzu fluff #sanzu x you #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x reader #haruchiyo sanzu #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers #tokrev fluff #tokrev smut #tokrev x y/n #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev sanzu #tokrev #tr sanzu #tr smut #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut

[r3dmooon]

Picking up/Cuddling Headcanons — Wally Darling x gn! reader

summery: just some headcanons of reader picking up and cuddling Wally <3 (plus a bonus drabble at the end)

tw: tad creepy towards the last headcanon. Nothing too bad tho lol

a/n: alt title: Treating Wally Like my Cats

wc: 0.5k

Master List

❥I know this has been said like a billion times, but I’m adding my two cents to this. Wally is 3 ft. Which if you are an average height for a human, or even just one of Wally’s puppet pals (they tend to be taller than him), you have an advantage >:)

❥Feeling lonely or bored? Pick up Wally and cuddle him while reading or whatever hobby you have. He doesn’t mind. He just snuggles into you and accepts his fate. Besides, being held by you AND getting to stare at you? Sign him up.

❥There are so many positions you can pick him up. Whether it’s like a baby, like a football, hell even like a sack of potatoes! He doesn’t care. He’ll just go limp in your hold, accepting your affection like a touch starved cat. 

❥When cuddling, you might get a bit nervous about crushing him. I mean he’s so much smaller than you! Well…maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration…but the fear’s still there! Well throw those worries out, dear reader. 

❥Wally LOVES it when you hold him like a stuffed animal at night. Holding him close to your chest and snuggling into his hair. Which is down! So soft and it smells like apples. How fitting. 

❥But all these seems so one sided, doesn’t it? :( 

❥Don’t worry. When you're cuddling him either absent mindedly while working on something, or to drift off to sleep, Wally will return them. He enjoys being wrapped in your arms, and enveloped by your warmth. You’re just so snuggly and lovely! He’s gotta indulge himself a little bit. Besides, you're so welcoming of his affections! 

❥So he wraps his arms around you the best he can in your position. Snuggles into you from wherever he lays. Maybe humming a little tune or listening intently to what you’re saying.

❥When you two cuddle, he’s more relaxed. Letting his mind rest from t̶̺̳̗̯̠͗̇̒͌̚͝͠h̸̨̧͋͑̓͂ë̴̙͈̠̱̼̰̝̤͊̎̐͗̅́̕͜ ̵͇̠̗̝̞̗̯͌̉͜͝h̴͙̩͍̽̀̈́̐͘͠ͅo̴̡̰͍̯̠̝̪͙͓͊r̵̛̺̭͑̍̂̈̋͒̃͠r̸̻̂̈́̍̽͠o̴̧̨̲͓͓̮͖͙̼͒́̑̏̃͗͝͝r̴͎͙͒̀̔̀̔̑̐̂s̵͕͖̹͎̲͚̑͌̊̈̒́̍̚͘͠ͅ  the fun he’s had that day.

So he tends to be on the more quiet side. Just taking you in. He just loves you so much! He feels safe around you and makes it obvious. Not that he doesn’t trust his other friends! There’s just…certain things he has to be more aware about…

❥Bonus drabble below! ↓

I paused reading. The feeling of wanting affection swarmed me. The first person coming to mind is Wally. I got up and started my search for the puppet that reminded me a bit of a cat. Perhaps that’s why I feel so comfortable with the arrangement we had. 

I found him sitting under the shade of a tree. His gaze drifted from our friends over to me. I approached him and bent down. He seemed to understand what was going on and lifted his arms up. It was like clockwork, once I picked him up, he went limp against me. It was honestly fun carrying him. I mean he was as light as a feather! I replaced where he previously sat and settled down into a position that was comfortable for the both of us. Wally let out a hum of delight, eyes boring into the side of my head. I took out my book once more, and felt content with the world once more.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #headcanons #drabble #x reader

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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